you really do have constellations in your smile

“It’s weird,” you muse as you tap your pen on your thigh, “the little things you notice when you’re looking.”

“You notice how his fingers play the strings of his guitar and you dream about those same fingers playing the notes of your body. You notice how is head tilts slightly to the right when he listens to you and you notice the lilt in his accent when he replies and you wonder how it would sound when he moaned against your skin. You notice how his blue eyes sparkle that little bit more when he’s trying to make sense of the constellations and the speed of light and the other things that shouldn’t really have to make sense. You notice how he doesn’t do anything halfway and his smile seems to stretch across his whole face and his laugh puts energy into his eyes and you notice the way he seems to hold his body like nothing could ever break him and you wish you could knock down the walls between the two of you with a trail of fiery kisses across his collarbone and jawline and wandering hands.”

“But even though you think your eyes catch every little detail, every small quirk,” she closes her hazel eyes and takes a deep, shuddering breathe, “you don’t notice yourself falling a little deeper, a little harder, in love every day.”


Love makes blind fools of all of us, 11/08/2015

Written for: inksplatteredpapers